


First Night

by thorduna



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Established Relationship, First Time Bottoming, Kings Rising Spoilers, Laurent POV, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Kings Rising, Rimming, bottom!damen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 14:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5970160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorduna/pseuds/thorduna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“What are we doing? Rewriting the past?” Laurent asked.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“No,” Damen replied and Laurent could hear the smile in his voice. “Writing a new future.”</i></p><p>Damen and Laurent arrive in Vere. Being in the palace is a source of tension for them both - tension that Damen promptly resolves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Night

_Laurent said, ‘I thought that in Akielos, a First Night was special.’_

_‘For a slave it is,’ said Damen. ‘For a slave it means everything.’_

Kings Rising, C. S. Pacat

* * *

 

 

There was strange wistfulness in Damen when they entered Arles.

 

Its source was no mystery to Laurent – after all, he too found himself swallowing down a complicated mixture of emotions as the gate of the royal palace opened to them – but it still came as a surprise. They spent the past four months in Akielos, sorting Damen's rule presently as Laurent began his own preparations, sending out hordes of messengers every day, and throughout that time, short as it was, Damen grew even more into his role as a king, if that were even possible.

 

It was hard to reconcile the memories of weakness and humiliation with the images of those months of determined kingship that Laurent witnessed first hand, and despite himself, he felt a twinge of worry.

 

It was ridiculous and yet fitting – he was here, in his own kingdom, coming home from exile in an attempt to secure his rule for good, and all he could think about was whether Damen would let him touch him that night, or if he would be too overwhelmed by the memories of the vastly less pleasant things that had come down upon him by Laurent's hand in this very place.

 

_Always foiling my plans. Always the wild card._

 

It was, perhaps, overly dramatic of him to think that way. They entered the palace. Ceremony was held. Laurent spoke. Laurent mingled. Laurent charmed and reassured where it was needed, he scolded in a perfectly calm, cool voice elsewhere.

 

He _was_ a lovestruck fool, but he was also king Laurent of Vere.

 

When it was done, he came to his new chambers – the king's chambers. They were newly renovated of course, hardly recognizable from the way they'd been when his father still lived, but the newness mingled with familiarity and Laurent hovered on the threshold of his bedroom for a moment before he realized what he was seeing.

 

It was Damen, dressed in a simple white chiton, lighting lamps and candles in the room.

 

Laurent had been... expecting servants. He had, in fact, new servants, carefully selected and employed for the mundane, every day tasks that a king needed.

 

“Damen,” he said simply.

 

Damen finished lighting up a candle and approached Laurent, saying nothing but smiling lightly.

 

He took Laurent by the shoulders lightly and turned him around, facing away from Damen. Laurent's breath hitched when he felt Damen's fingers sweeping this hair away from his neck, finding the first lace of his jacket and undoing it.

 

“What are we doing? Rewriting the past?” Laurent asked.

 

“No,” Damen replied and Laurent could hear the smile in his voice. “Writing a new future.”

 

Laurent let himself be attended, the layers of his clothing loosening under Damen's skilled fingers and falling away. How many times have they done this? _Before_ , Damen would usually stop at Laurent's jacket, doing the minimal necessity so that Laurent could finish undressing, but not now. His jacket was peeled away, shirt tugged from his trousers, trousers unlaced... Then Damen knelt in front of him to tug his boots down and Laurent closed his eyes.

 

“You are a king, same as I,” Laurent murmured.

 

“Does that stop you from bringing me a towel after you've spilled over my chest?”

 

Laurent made himself stay perfectly still when Damen said that, his voice deep and rich. He said it like he couldn't be more fond of that fact that yes, indeed, Laurent did that quite a bit.

 

“This is a bit more than a towel, Damen.”

 

Damen just hummed and pulled Laurent's trousers down, leaving him bare.

 

There was a private bath adjoined to the bedroom and Damen steered him there. The room was hot with steam and fragrant with oils. The tub was sunk into the floor, made of smooth marble, enough to take two, perhaps three people, but Damen didn't join Laurent, not fully. He remained on the edge, kneeling; later he shifted to sit so that he could better massage Laurent's shoulders with soap, dipping his calves in.

 

Despite everything, Laurent found it impossible not to enjoy. He forced everything away but the feeling of his lover thoroughly pampering him. Damen was familiar. He was safe and to feel such gentle, caring ministrations all over his body from somebody he trusted could not be wrong.

 

Still, he wondered. This was clearly planned. Damen had joined him at the ceremony and at the feast too, but later Laurent had stayed behind, taking care of matters he had felt were urgent and Damen had slipped away. And this was what he'd been doing, apparently. Bathing himself, dressing lightly, drawing another bath for Laurent to enjoy on his own.

 

“As nice as this is,” Laurent said when Damen was done pouring water over his head to help him rinse, “I can't help but wonder what exactly do you have in mind next.”

 

“Can't you guess?” Damen teased. “I would have thought you saw this coming.”

 

He was nervous, damn him. His stomach tensed with anticipation, but this was a game he knew how to play.

 

“Perhaps I did. Perhaps I simply enjoy you whispering filth in my ear.”

 

“That can be arranged,” Damen chuckled and gestured for Laurent to step out of the tub. Laurent almost hesitated, wishing to claim he wanted to soak, but that train of thought was broken when he turned and laid his eyes back on Damen. The white chiton was damp and clinging to Damen's body. Damen's eyes were dark but soft, watching him openly in the dimness of the bath.

 

And just like that, most of his misgivings were gone. Damen wouldn't have done this if he didn't want to. If he didn't feel perfectly secure as Laurent's servant-

 

No, not servant. His slave.

 

His Akielon slave.

 

Laurent let himself be wrapped in a large towel and rubbed down from head to toe.

 

“Is this how it would be? Were you on the receiving end of this treatment more times than you can count?”

 

“I was. I always would ask for a bath on a slave's First Night. It calmed them. Gave them something to focus on.”

 

Laurent's mouth twitched with suppressed smile. “Are you feeling calm?”

 

“Not in the slightest,” Damen breathed into his ear and then nuzzled his neck.

 

The bed, too, was ready. Plush and large, with a selection of bottles laid out on the nightstand.

 

“Do you want a massage?” Damen asked as Laurent sat on the edge of the bed.

 

“No. I want to see you.”

 

Damen unpinned his chiton and it pooled around his ankles. He made a move as if to drop to his knees but Laurent stopped him with hands on his hips and drew him forward instead to stand between Laurent's legs. As he leaned forward, he saw from the corner of his eye that Damen's hands were balled into fists, probably helping him fight the urge to wind his fingers into Laurent's hair, and Laurent tugged him closer. He decided to reward this restraint by skipping his customary teasing. He nuzzled the thick, dark curls above Damen's cock and then wrapped a hand around the base, bringing the tip to his mouth.

 

It didn't take long for Damen to be hard and straining in his mouth. He did so love when Laurent did this to him, knowing without words now that it was quite a leap for Laurent to even perform this act. From his position it was easy to let one hand slip between Damen's thighs and quest closer to his core with cautious fingertips. When he found his goal, he groaned and let Damen's cock slip from his mouth.

 

“ _Damen_ ,” he said, breathless. His fingers have encountered a good amount of slickness between Damen's cheeks and his head was spinning with the knowledge. Was this what Damen had been doing as Laurent stood at court, securing support? Using his fingers, filling his hole with oil?

 

“Turn around,” Laurent said then, looking up to Damen's flushed face. He needed to see.

 

Damen did and Laurent held him by the hips again, looking him up and down. Damen was... impressive from every angle, obviously, thick muscles coiling underneath dark, sun kissed skin. The scars were... they were there. They'd always be there but Laurent's gaze was instantly trained on the round, inviting curve of Damen's buttocks. His shifted his hands, bringing them closer together until his thumbs slipped into the parting and he opened Damen for his viewing. He saw the oil glistening clearly over a dusky opening and without thinking he leaned forward and let his tongue dart out.

 

Damen shouted and bucked forward, almost slipping from Laurent's grasp. Mindlessly, Laurent slapped his ass.

 

“Come closer. Bend forward a bit,” he ordered. And that's what it was, an order uttered without hesitating – all of his guilt and misgivings were washed away by intense arousal. He needed this. And Damen was giving it.

 

A sound that Laurent couldn't name escaped Damen and he did as he was told, fitting his hips back into Laurent's grasp and bending just so Laurent's face was more easily nuzzled between his buttocks and Laurent could taste him again. Laurent slowly ran his tongue over the wreath of skin, mapping it, dipping inside.

 

He drew backwards after a while.

 

“On the bed,” he told Damen, reaching for a towel from a pile that was neatly stacked by the bed. Damen had thought of everything. “I can't wait to do that again without the oil.”

 

Damen stared at him a little and then laughed, a breathless but genuine laugh as he watched Laurent wipe his mouth.

 

“You mean that,” he said with clear wonder in his voice. Laurent cocked his head at him.

 

“As if you wouldn't be saying the very same thing were our roles reversed.” This much he was certain of. Damen seemed shameless in bed. And indeed, Damen's gaze dropped down, roaming over Laurent's bare skin hungrily.

 

“Not now,” he said, shivering underneath the intensity of Damen's expression. “Now I want you on your back.”

 

And Damen – his beautiful, impossible lover – of course obeyed. Laurent lowered himself over him, coming to rest on his knees between Damen's spread thighs, his elbows by either side of Damen's head. They kissed, deeply, in a way that was now well loved and familiar to them both. Laurent's cock twitched and he let his hips drop a little so that he could rub himself against Damen's own. He lost himself in the kiss, nipping at Damen's full lips, feeling himself slip deeper into the awareness that this was indeed happening.

 

That Damen had planned this night for him, for his first night spent in the capital as the true king.

 

It would be a first night for them both and it would happen here, in Vere, where Laurent was just welcomed and recognized.

 

Damen was touching him; a loose, slowly pumping grip on his cock.

 

“Enough, that's enough,” Laurent panted and Damen guided him down. First there was beautiful, slick resistance pressing down on the head of his cock and he dropped his head to Damen's shoulder. Then, ever so slowly, with the press of his hips the resistance parted and he was sucked in.

 

They both gasped and went still, Damen clutching Laurent's upper arms and Laurent holding himself tremblingly unmoving, his mind wiped free of thoughts.

 

He was inside of Damen.

 

He was caught, trapped, and then freely invited in.

 

After a while, he started moving again, mustering enough awareness to raise his head and look down at Damen and make sure he wasn't in pain.

 

Damen was wearing an expression of pure awe. Then he said: “More.”

 

Laurent drew on every single bit of strength and control he possessed, grounding his knees into the mattress and pushing further in slowly, then out again, forcing himself to make his movements as slow and smooth as possible, stricken by the need to see Damen fall apart, to love every second of it.

 

It was gentleness but underneath it was a steel core. Laurent would not be relinquishing that control tonight, but he would use it to completely and utterly sate Damen.

 

It was almost impossible – the sensation, the feeling of it... he wanted to just rut in, to claim, to seek out more of the velvety, tight heat, but he held back. He found a rhythm, alternating between kissing Damen deeply and leaning back to watch his face. When his own need started to overwhelm him, he balanced himself on one arm only and ran the other down Damen's chest and belly, grasping his cock. It was hot and slick at the tip, unfailing hard, and Laurent started to stroke Damen in sync with his thrusts.

 

“Laurent,” Damen begged.

 

“Yes, yes,” Laurent hissed, encouraging him. He wanted to hear all of it.

 

“Laurent, I need more, please, love, _please_ , I-” Laurent snapped his hips forward, driving deeper and he tightened his grip on Damen's cock. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead, his body fighting against the whipcord tension that he forced it into.

 

“It's so good, Laurent, I need you deeper, I need everything-” Damen babbled, in Akielon now, and his cock stiffened further in Laurent's hand before Damen arched, gasping, and spilled between them.

 

But he didn't even pause, he didn't stop talking. “Laurent, please, more, more, do it-” he encouraged and something snapped in Laurent and he fucked forward, burying himself as deep in Damen's body as he could before driving back and doing it all over again. He sobbed his climax into Damen's neck and then collapsed on top of him.

 

The room quieted and cooled. Damen's arms were tightly wrapped around him and their ankles were tangled.

 

Fuelled by sheer willpower rather than energy, Laurent lifted himself to reach for a towel, looking for a pitcher of water to wet it with. He fumbled with it a little, but to his relief, Damen stayed put on the bed, merely watching Laurent with a dazed little smile on his face. He wiped both of their bellies where they've been stuck together by Damen's come and then he, kissing Damen's knee, reached between Damen's legs too, wiping him gently.

 

He did not even attempt to conceal that he looked at the towel to see that there was only the white of his own spendings, and no blood.

 

“You didn't hurt me,” Damen said. Laurent felt as though Damen wanted to add _you wouldn't_ but of course that had long since been proven untrue.

 

“I'm glad,” Laurent said eventually, finding it impossible to formulate anything else. He poured them both some water. He fussed with tossing the towels away. But then there was nothing to do but to slip with Damen underneath the covers.

 

And when was finally there, slightly on his side, with Damen's arms wrapped around him, the gold of their twin cuffs twinkling in the candlelight, then he let himself feel fully how much he loved it.

 

“I... thank you. You've given me something that I...”

 

“You have given me the same,” Damen murmured into his ear.

 

Laurent entwined their fingers together and closed his eyes.

 

He was sure that soon enough they would be figuring out what other _first_ s they could give to each other.

 

Perhaps they could make it into a game.

 


End file.
